Hell's Kitchen Cronicles
by Nat D
Summary: Collection of Daredevil oneshots featuring Matt Murdock, Karen Page and Frank Castle. Pairings and ratings will vary. Chapter 1: Matt cannot see, so Karen figures there's no harm in foregoing clothes (Karedevil, rated T)
1. Be with you

**Hello!**

 **This is a series of short stories - drabbles and oneshots - I write about Netflix's Daredevil. Because this show took my life by storm.**

 **As I know it happens to a lot of you, I have multiple OTP's here. I ship almost every ship. But these will be focused on Matt, Karen and Frank. Karedevil, Kastle and this wonderful new thing I found called OT3 (Kastledevil). In these, there will be mentions of Fratt. I'll always let you know who the chapter is about.**

 **I always post on Tumblr first (link is on my profile). I'll post here and on Ao3 after. They will - probably - be set post season 2.**

 **I live and breathe feedback. And I am EXTREMELY insecure about these - writing these people is hard. They're so complete I'm afraid to touch them, but I did. So, please drop a word and tell me what you think.**

 **Thank you!**

 **(If you read my OUAT stories, I'm sorry. I stopped watching the show a while ago, with the full intention of watching it all when the season ended. With this new horrible turn of events, I'm not sure I will. But I'll keep writing, I think. I love my Outlaw Queen, as it started. So, if you're still there, I'll update. Promise.)**

* * *

 _ **Be with you**_

 **Pairing: Karedevil (Matt Murdock/Karen Page)**

 **Summary: Matt cannot see, so Karen figures there's no harm in foregoing clothes.**

 **Rated T**

* * *

It was difficult to win Karen back.

She made him twist himself forwards and backwards to explain, to apologise, to plea, to promise to not lie anymore. And he wouldn't.

Now, after weeks of space and small concessions and torture, she smiled again. Now she talked to him again. Now she took his calls. And she accepted his kisses. Kissed him back. Invited him up and spent the night.

And _now,_ Karen wandered around the apartment naked. His and hers.

The first time, he walked home after work - regular work, not masked work - and listened. He knew she was going to be there before him, had given her a key only this morning (which earned him delicious kisses and smiles and a whispered thank you and the will to either make her very late for work or skip it entirely). He located her in his bathroom, skin smelling of his soap and hair smelling of his shampoo, brushing her teeth. Naked.

Matt smiled and closed the door behind him, hanging his coat and sitting his cane against the door, glasses off.

He walked to the bathroom door just when she was drying her face on a towel.

"Evening, Mr. Murdock", she greeted, voice so very soft and how did she know? That he had such a busy day, so noisy and full of bullshit, playing the blind, Ivy League lawyer who was clueless to the real source of business his employers conducted, to dig up information on the big corporation from inside the source and all he needed was some quiet and silence and the smooth sound of her voice in his ear, her hair strands around his fingers and her skin under his lips. "Had a good day?"

He sighed, loosening the tie she had tied around his neck this morning (because every time she was around, his skills with it seemed to conveniently vanish). "It's much better now."

She walked to him and the hand on the back of his neck, fingernails running up his hair and the other getting his jacket off one shoulder had him almost moaning.

Karen greeted him with a kiss that was too slow to be innocent, tongue immediately peeking out and swiping shyly against his. The answering hand he took to her hair after dropping his jacket on the floor, to anchor her mouth against his so he could kiss her properly was probably expected, she gave him a few seconds, where he ran fingers down the length of her back, looking for that gasp he loved to hear.

It came and went very quickly, when she moved away from his mouth with a sigh, face turned upwards and hands letting go of the collar of his shirt.

"You know what you need?" she breathed out and he took a step forward, to close the gap she had opened between them.

"You."

Karen took her hands to his face, fingers caressing before she stepped back and away, walking around him towards the kitchen.

"Hair conditioner. I spent ages untangling."

He breathed in and out, steadily, and smiled, making a mental note.

"I got us some food on my way here, it smelled very good. I'll heat it for us."

He sighed, face turned towards her and smiled.

"Ok."

When he walked out from his bedroom again, showered and into a pair of sweatpants, Karen was wearing one of his hoodies over absolutely nothing.

"Do you mind? I forgot to bring something to sleep in."

"You should always forget", he said, kissing her hand. "That does smell pretty good."

They ate out of the same plate, sitting on the couch, her legs over his while he massaged her feet, intending more than just relax her, pressing all the right muscles and nerves, and she fed him forkfuls of hearty food. Karen straddled his lap when it was over, letting him unzip the hoodie and slide it down her arms, his mouth seeking the highs and lows of her.

.:.

Two nights after that, he was crouched on a rooftop at midnight after tracking his target to an innocent looking building door, but the smell of cooking meth was almost overwhelming to him. He still had his day clothes on, so he would not be able to make his move just then. It would have to wait until the next Thursday, when, he learned, the next shipment was coming. He could put together a whole busting operation, some key agents of NYPD informed to tie it all up with a neat bow. No need for anyone to get (too) hurt - he sure was going to break some noses and twist a few arms, so to speak.

Satisfied with what he found, he got up and walked away, making his way back from where he came, soon navigating the streets like a normal citizen.

"Hello?"

"So if I go home now", he said on the phone. "Will I find an empty apartment? Cause I sure am not in the mood for that."

Karen chuckled on the line and shit, he loved that sound. Loved it enough to feel it in his chest.

"As per your request, I am here once again. And I see you bought a bottle of the shampoo I like. _Plus_ conditioner. I'm flattered."

"If it makes you come back..."

He prefered her silences when she was there in front of him and he could read heartbeats and breathing patterns and body language.

"So I guess my presence is welcomed here, huh?"

"Something along these lines, yes."

"That's good to know."

Matt felt like a fool who could not keep his cool.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, trying to steer the conversation towards safer grounds, at least while he was walking on the street. "I can pick up something to eat."

"Sure, yeah. The half sandwich I had for dinner was not enough, really."

He wanted to suggest that she _should_ eat, due to the amount of exercise he predicted to her immediate future, but that was so ridiculous and so cheesy, he let it go.

"Oh, and guess what?"

"What?" he asked, walking down the sidewalk.

"I forgot my PJ's again. Only realised it after my shower."

Which meant she was there on his apartment, alone, naked.

"Karen?"

"Hmm?"

"Just a small question: do you want me to get hit by a car?" he asked, trying and failing to contain his smile - it's never too safe to keep smiling like a fool while on the phone in the streets of Hell's Kitchen.

Her laugh, on the other hand, came freely and sensual on the other side of the line.

"No, Mr. Murdock", she said with a voice that was almost new, that she reserved for intimate moments, with him. "I want you to hurry up and get home."

He did not stop to get food. Went straight home and they ordered in... After.

.:.

He loved it when she did it to tease him, to get something out of him or just to maybe drive him crazy a little bit (when she would bat his hand away and tell him to "behave"). But there was this one time his mind would go back to when he was missing her, for any reason.

It was not a warm night. But between her heater and her heavy blankets, he arrived at her place to find her sleeping, alone, not a stitch of clothing on her. He kissed the top of her head and moved to change out of his suit. She didn't move, went on sleeping on her side, hugging a pillow to her.

When Matt finally joined her in bed, after making sure her door and windows were locked, she was on her stomach, face turned to him, still sound asleep and he reached to run the pad of his thumb lightly from her forehead, down her nose, over her lips, to her chin. She grimaced at that, scrunching her nose as if to get rid of whatever was tickling it.

Smiling, the notion that he had her, that he was allowed to do this, had him a bit… Nervous? Apprehensive? Something that had him feeling like he should hold on and, if he let it, an anxiety about the possibility of losing her (that she would walk away, that someone would take her from him, hurt her or-) that could cripple him like blindness never did.

Breathing through it, he focused on the now, and reminded himself of the countless precautions he took everyday to ensure her safety - even if she had a knack for walking into harm's way.

Hand on her shoulder, he felt warm, even skin under his fingers. Moving it to the center of her back, he felt one, two, three, four, five, the bones of her spine, until he reached the small of her back, where his hand rose with the curve of her butt. Reaching, he ran his fingers until he was touching her hip, rising to her waist and touching her bent elbow.

He heard her heartbeat change, a sign he woke her up. He would regret it, pulling her from much needed rest, but-

"I love you", he whispered, nose almost touching hers, hand on her back again, rising to her head, running over her hair.

He has never said that before. Neither had she. He knew it, at some level, but wanted to make sure, to be sure he really did, so he could be so completely honest with her - and with himself.

Matt didn't plan on saying it tonight, nor did he expect a reply, especially since she was half asleep.

Still, her hand rose to his face and her fingers moved on that sweet, caring caress.

"Which one of you?"

He chuckled, bringing her body closer to his.

"Both. All of me and all of you."

Her eyes were open and focused on his face, now, and she smiled, so simple, like she knew, but her heart was beating fast, excited.

"Good." her legs fished one of his and tangled themselves around it. "I love both of you, too."


	2. Pray you catch me

**_Pray you catch me_**

 **Pairing: Kastledevil (Matt/Karen/Frank)**

 **Summary: How domestic can a couple of vigilantes and a reporter be?**

 **Rated: K+ (but it is about a threeway relationship, so beware)**

* * *

"You're lucky I was there", Frank Castle said, pouring scotch on a glass, after complaining Matt had no ice in his fridge.

"Have I or have I not managed to survive before you showed up with your guns?" Matt asked, crossing his arms in front of him after putting the kettle on the fire, leaning against the wall.

"Barely."

He was going to answer, but turned his head to the right, in that way that meant he was listening to something, and raised his brows.

"What?" Frank asked.

"Karen turned the hot water on."

"So?"

"She didn't turn on the cold one, it's gonna be too ho-"

"Ow ow ow! Oh God!" came the yelps of Karen from his bathroom and Matt chuckled, starting towards the sound that Frank couldn't hear.

"That shower can be tricky", he said while walking to help.

"Matt!" Karen called loudly right before he crossed the door of his bedroom.

Frank took a sip of his scotch and opened the fridge to look for something to eat. Nothing but leftover take out, and, to be honest, he felt like eating something fresher. Closing it again, he leaned against the sink and nursed his drink, thinking about what his next move was going to be. Word was there were some Irish people looking for him.

His burner vibrated in his pocket and he frowned. The main people that usually called him were here, all two of them.

He raised his brows when he read "FN" on the caller ID.

"Nelson?"

" _Did you kill a bunch of drug dealers in Harlem?"_ asked his former lawyer.

"What?"

" _Just answer the freaking question!"_

"No. What the hell are you talking about?"

" _Are you sure?"_

"Yes, counselor, I'm sure I didn't kill some drug dealers. What's going on?"

" _Ok. Just needed to make sure. Bye."_

"Hold-"

The line was dead before he could ask anything else. By his side, the kettle started to boil and he moved to snuff the flame from the stove. Looking at the two mugs on the counter, with a tea bag each, waiting for the water, Fank realized Red should have been back by now. Looking towards the bedroom, he couldn't see him, but he could hear the faint sound of the shower running.

Ok. It's fine. Frank's a fucking grown up, he can sit on the couch and drink by himself. Relax a little. God knows he needs it.

That decision went out the window even before it came in. Draining his glass with two gulps, he grimaced when the liquid burned his throat and walked towards the sliding door of Matt Murdock's bedroom, walking around the bed and into the en suite bathroom.

They could all relax later.


	3. Don't hurt yourself

**_Don't hurt yourself_**

 **Pairing: Kastle/Karedevil**

 **Summary: Trouble, vigilantes and decisions**

 **Rated K**

* * *

Matt banged the door on Karen's face and walked towards the exit.

Feeling around, she found some sort of bat and closed her hand around it, just in case - even if, she was pretty sure, it would not be of much help - when she heard the men walking in and the disturbing noises of a fight. A nasty one.

Peeking through the irregular frame and busted wood, she could see him, Daredevil, moving like she had seen before, before she knew he was Matt, with three different guys at a time.

Part of her was impressed. The other, bigger part, was scared shitless because as much as she knew he could do this, the thought of anything going wrong now meant that Matt would get hurt.

So her heart was about to explode out of her chest.

Thankfully, he could handle himself. When he had his arm around the last guy's throat, slowly but surely lowering him to the ground while he lost his senses, Karen opened the door and stepped out.

Only to find a pair of arms around herself, a hand on her neck and a knife to her waist and a barked order, towards Daredevil, who released the other guy and started towards her. "Don't you fucking move! Don't you move or I swear I'll kill-"

A gun shot, her own scream, and she was free, the man falling by her side and at her feet, blood spilling out.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Red?!" Frank, suddenly, walking through the same door Matt's opponents had come through, his pet shotgun swinging from his holster, peeking out of his coat while he walked.

"Frank-" she breathed.

"Goddamit! Are you incapable of spending ten seconds without killing anyone? What the hell is your problem?!" Matt was screaming back at him while walking towards her.

" _My_ problem?"

"Are you ok?" Matt, Daredevil, _Matt_ asked her, fingers on her face, but then away, just checking.

"Yeah, I-"

"You're the one walking into a goddamn trap. Do you know how many of these assholes are coming up those stairs right now?"

"I can handle it!"

"And what are _you_ doing here?" Frank's question was directed at her this time. "Did you bring her with you to this? Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"I didn't bring her with me, we met down the street!"

Frank, now standing in front of her, looked from Daredevil to her, like he was about to scold her.

"You're a piece of work, d'you know that?"

She opened her mouth to say something, but then Matt was running towards the door, jumping and pushing his feet on the newcomers chest, knocking him to the ground, punching him unconscious before he could catch his breath again.

"You have to get out of here. _Now_!" Frank barked at her while she watched Matt literally climb a wall and land behind a second man, punching him on the small of his back and kicking the back of his knees before turning around and starting with a different man, from the new group that was pouring from the door.

Frank turned around, picked his gun from his side and shot two that were advancing on Matt.

"Get her out of here!"

Turning around, he pulled Karen by her elbow towards the stairs in the back of the room and climbed with her, quickly. When they reached the door to what she assumed was the roof, he bust the padlock open with a fire extinguisher and opened it for her.

"You have your gun?" he asked, hand still on her elbow.

"Uh n-no, ,I didn't think I'd need it today, I-"

"Goddamit."

He reached behind him and pulled one, giving it to her.

"You wait here until it's over. Somebody who is not me or Red come through this door you shoot'em. Got it?"

She looked at the gun in her hand.

" _Karen!_ You shoot' em in the face! You got that?"

She looked at him and nodded quickly.

"Y-yeah"

Suddenly, he had his hand on the back of her neck and his mouth on top of hers.

Her body froze and the taste of strong coffee bled on her tongue while Frank kissed her fiercely. Before she could do much more than open her mouth and slide her tongue once against his, he was pushing her outside, closing the door and running back down the stairs.

Looking behind her, Karen found a spot against a wall without any light from other buildings, where she could still see the door, but could take cover, if she needed.

"Oh, God" she breathed out.

She was shaking, she realized when looking at the gun on her hand. Breathing in and out a few times, she tried to calm her nerves.

For two minutes, she heard nothing, until another gunshot and she was covering her mouth with her hand, because "Oh God, please, don't let it be Frank or Matt, please, please, please, please-"

It was another two minutes until she heard something else, and her mind was running with the feeling of Frank's mouth on hers, the strong taste of him and his hand on her neck. She didn't even have time-

There was another gunshot and the door was busting open again and she raised Frank's gun, but lowered it again when she saw the red suit. But Matt was turning around again and kicking someone behind him, using the door and the wall to hold himself up while his legs raised, locked around the neck of a man twice his size and brought him down, banging the door against his head twice before kicking him back down the stairs and turning to her.

"Ma- wha-what's going on-"

And then he was close close close, so close, hands on her face, lips on hers, urgent, hard, shallow and oh, shit, shit, shit, she was melting.

"You can't do this, Karen, you can't just come to places like this on your own-"

He interrupted himself to kiss her again and she felt like crying because _God._

Everything was happening at once, there was no pause to think or feel or do anything.

His hand descended to the place the man had pressed the knife before, looking for a wound.

"I'm fine, I'm ok, he didn't", she said, the hand that was not holding the gun raising to the one that still cradled her face.

"Let's go, come on."

Matt pulled her towards the main stairs, and she strained her ears for noise, a sign that Frank was still fighting. But he pulled her by the hand and they climbed down, stopping briefly every time they passed a door. Matt could hear much further than she could - she knew that, now, after he explained to her all the ingredients that made it possible for him, and only him, to be Daredevil. Before the echo of their own feet faded and she could strain her ears, he was moving again, pulling her by the hand.

After he opened the door on the ground floor and ran on the hallway towards the exit, Karen's flesh raised in shivers from the wind.

"Get a cab. Go home. Lock the door."

"Wait wait wait", she held him by his arms and looked at his face. He was, of course, bleeding. "What are you… And- and Frank…"

"That's why I have to go, I have to help him."

She hesitated and he took the gun from her hand.

"Put this in your purse".

After she did, he caressed her hair again and pushed her gently towards the street.

"Go. I'll wait. Go."

Shaking, nervous, she walked to the sidewalk, into the light and raised her arm, hailing a cab.

Karen looked at him before closing the car door after herself. He waited for the car to start moving and went back inside.

.:.

She waited for two hours. Paced her entire apartment over and over again. Turned the tv on and then immediately off. Sat in silence, tried to eat, gave up, paced some more.

Until there was a knock on the door.

Karen started to run towards it before it occurred to her that it could be someone… Bad.

Stepping carefully, she stood by the door, not behind it, trying to hear something from outside.

"It's me."

With a start, she unchained it and turned the key to unlock the door before swinging it open.

"Hey"


	4. Love drought

**_Love drought_**

 **Pairing: Kastle**

 **Summary: Frank Castle stares at Karen Page**

 **Rated K**

* * *

Frank has been doing this _thing,_ where he would look at her while she speaks, normally, but then, when she's finished with whatever it was she was saying, he would keep looking. Staring. Clenching his jaw, and when she asked "what?" he would raise his brows, so cocky, like he was the one that caught her staring at him and look away with a smile so small she wondered if she was imagining it.

And then they were not so small. And then they even showed some teeth.

Karen would smile back, even if she didn't feel like smiling in that particular moment. Frank Castle seemed to have that effect on her.

She never said anything because, well, his main thing was shooting bad guys. That's how they met, that's (a little bit) why they bonded, that's why they fought, that's why they always made up (usually when he shot someone to save her. It happened more than once). Karen would not assume anything beyond that with him for the sole reason of 'who the hell knows, with him?' It's too complicated.

But he was starting to make her wonder. Take this random night,for example, when he took her to yet another diner, sketchy as ever, but one they kept returning to. That night, they were spying on this congressman. Karen was working on an exposé on him. Her sources were pretty sure he was… "entertaining" some very young girls.

"If he comes out of there with a hooker I'm gonna shoot him." he said from his spot in front of her.

"I'm not gonna stop you."

Karen saw him, from the corner of her eye, turn to look at her with that almost smile. Looking at him, she shrugged and picked her mug up, just so she had something to do with her hands and took a sip of her coffee.

The waiter walking by must have seen her grimace over the bitter, bitter taste her companion seemed to prefer.

"Can I get you some sugar, sweetener, or anything?" he asked, stopping in front of their booth.

And oh. He was _cute_. Dark skin, smiling eyes and broad shoulders, Karen found herself nodding and smiling her thanks.

He walked away and came back with sugar for her.

"There you go. Sir?" he moved the pot of coffee on his hand to Frank, who offered his own mug and stared, but not at her, with his mean face.

"Let me know if you guys need anything else. There's this pecan pie, very good."

He said 'you guys' but he looked - and smiled a very nice smile - at Karen.

"I'll have a slice. Thanks."

"My pleasure."

When she looked back at Frank, he was frowning at her.

"What?"

"Someone's got an admirer."

She rolled her eyes and they went back to looking out the window.

When they left, the waiter who had refreshed her coffee three more times, always making some kind of cute comment, smiled big at her, thanked them and told her "we have that pie every Thursday."

"Shut up", she told Frank when he raised his brows while holding the door open for her.

After that, he would always bring that waiter up - he was "that punk" now. And he would avoid the diner, with the argument that "it has a weird smell."

.:.

Another night, a month after she decided she would start staring back at him - because her first impulse was always to hide her face in her hands - they were at his place, which looked more like a weapons factory, and she was petting his dog while he looked for bullets for _her_ gun, when she saw a big one he had been cleaning up.

"Would you teach me how to shoot that?" she pointed at it, and he turned around to look.

"That's a sniper gun, ma'am."

"I'm aware."

"Why'd you wanna learn how to shoot a sniper gun?"

Karen shrugged and resumed her rubbing of the dog's ear, who whined when she stopped.

"I keep you for company. You never know when it'll be handy."

And then he stared again.

Her heart did that thing, but she held his look. And then he chuckled, turning back and getting a box of bullets.

"Ok. Let's go."

"What, now?"

"You got something better to do?"

An hour later, they were lying on their stomachs on a hill, shoulders touching, and he was telling her all these technical things about the gun, how the trigger worked, safety, bullets, casing, kick, aim, silencer.

"Where are we, anyway?" she asked when he moved to give her space in front of the weapon he had put together, aiming forward.

"You let me worry about that. Alright. Can you see your target?"

She looked through what she learned was called the aim assist. Her target was a window on the second story of a house.

"There's no one in this house, right? You're not gonna make me shoot some pimp, or something?"

"No, that's lesson 2. Do you have your target or what?"

"Yes, I have it."

"Ok. Set your aim. Safety off."

Looking through the aim assist, Karen moved the gun a little bit to center it where she wanted. Taking a second to let the situation sink in: she was lying on a hill, probably ruining her clothes, next to Frank Castle, shooting at an empty house.

Fine by her.

She turned the safety off.

"Whenever you're ready", he whispered by her side and she took a steadying breath.

The man's got a great voice.

Pulling the trigger, her bullet went through the window, breaking a whole in the glass.

Moving her eye away from the aim, Karen smiled, biting her lip, and looked at Frank at her left.

"That's my girl", he said and he really should smile more. It lit his whole face up. It made her happy. "Ok, another window. You set the aim this time."

Karen shot all the windows at her disposal, and then he showed off and shot a few small things, like the mailbox or the peephole on the front door.

"Come on, sniper girl, let's get some pie or something," he said, helping her up after showing her how to dismantle the weapon (she did not pay attention).

"Pecan pie?" she teased, certain he would roll his eyes or something.

Frank stared again, this time letting his eyes wander from her eyes to her lips and then back.

"I don't think so."

He held her eyes for another few seconds and then looked away towards where they had parked the car.

"I hate pecan pie."

.:.

It wasn't until almost three weeks after that that Karen could stop all that wondering.

Four in the morning and they were walking his dog. She had been hidden in his apartment, weirdly enough, as per Matt's request. Apparently there were still some ninjas running around and he needed to deal with them and Frank decided he needed to help.

So he locked her in, gave her instructions on how to leave unnoticed if needed and how to shoot someone through the kitchen door in case she heard any strange noises.

She spent almost seven hours surrounded by every kind of weapon she could imagine and when he walked in again, she was trying to teach the dog how to sit on command.

"Hey. Anything happen?"

"You could say that." he said, closing the door behind him. "We got this guy. Asked him some questions."

"Oh God. Is he dead?"

He looked at her for a second, as if deciding if he should tell her the truth or not. But he always did.

"Yeah."

For a moment, she felt bad. But then she remembered how they shot that old man, how they kidnapped all those people, those kids, and how they almost cut that's man's foot off. And they almost killed Matt. So she took a deep breath and decided she could live with that fact.

"Are you hungry?" Frank asked, so serious Karen would think he was mad at her, if she didn't know better.

"Yeah, actually."

"Alright. Let's get some breakfast or something."

When he opened the door for her, the dog started whining.

"Shh, it's ok, I'll bring you some", he said, taking a step to walk out and close the door. That only caused the pet to whine harder.

"Why don't we take him?"

He looked at her and she shrugged, smiling.

Five minutes later, they were walking towards any place that could sell them food at three thirty in the morning, which turned out to be this sandwich food truck.

"What's his name, anyway?" she asked, after giving the last bite to the dog.

He looked at it, biting on what remained of his second cuban sandwich, thinking.

"I don't know."

"What do you call him?"

"Boy."

She chuckled. "Well. That's cute, but he needs a real name."

They stopped, waiting for the right light to cross the street, and Karen thought about the possibilities.

"How about P? You know, for 'Punisher'?"

He nudged her with his elbow, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.

"Ok, that's out".

They kept on walking and she kept on suggesting, he kept on passing names.

Before they turned a corner, he changed the leash he was holding to his other hand and held her own, suddenly serious.

She was about to ask what he was doing when they turned and she saw the thugs he probably heard before her. Five or six, looking drunk, a few beer bottles scattered on the floor by them.

They hinted the intention of walking up to them to do whatever, but Frank is a scary dude. One look and they sat back, stopped talking altogether and the noise only resumed when they walked past them.

"How about Max?" Frank asked when they turned another corner.

She looked at him, offered a small smile and then looked at the pitbull walking ahead of them. It was almost impossible to tell he used to be a fighting dog. He looked very, very sweet. That small missing piece of his ear might as well have been from hard core play time.

"I think it works."

So when they turned on her corner, they were fed, the dog was named and his hand was still holding hers.

"You watch your back, ok?" Frank told her, and she was starting to really, really like that scruffy quality of his voice.

"Always do."

"Debatable, but ok."

She rolled her eyes jokingly and he stared. Again, with the staring and the clenching of the jaw.

"I will."

He kept staring. Not hard, not invasive at all. Not looking for anything, just… looking, that way he did. Maybe reading.

She liked her lips and pressed them together.

"Ok", he answered. "Go."

She took a second to let go of his eyes and then took a step back, turning on her heels and relaxing her fingers, letting go of his hand.

But he pressed them tighter and pulled her back, making her turn around, yanking her towards him and meeting her halfway, lips on hers.

Karen was sure he could hear her heart beating. Her fingers squeezed his hand tight, on reflex, while his mouth sat there on top of hers, pressing, for a few seconds.

When he moved back half an inch, she opened her mouth to suck in a breath.

"W-what are you doing?"

"Checking something."

This time, his mouth opened over hers, guiding, sure, but not forcing. When Karen parted her lips and angled her head, it was because she felt like that was the best way to… Enjoy that sudden kiss of his.

He let go of her hand to pull her to him by her back and she touched his arms, scratching the fabric of his coat with her nails a bit.

"What are you checking?" she asked and he let out what could only be described as a growl, or maybe an aggressive purr, and moved his head in, kissing her again. She felt his tongue on hers and he tasted of strong coffee.

Just when she was really starting to enjoy this, he let go of her. Rose his hand to her face, took another swipe of his tongue against hers, slow, but so intense.

"Go."

When she looked at him, his breathing was a bit hard, his eyes glued to her mouth and she bit her lower lip, just to see if he would-

Shaking his head once, he breathed in and out quickly, closing his eyes, licking his own lips and Karen smiled.

"Go, go, go", he urged and she didn't want to, but she did.

He watched her climb the steps and unlock the door. When she looked back at him, he was staring again, that half smirk in place, almost not there at all, but she was so good at spotting it, now.

Placing her purse on the doorknob to keep it from closing again, she turned around and climbed the steps down again, quickly, before she changed her mind, and his arms opened to catch her when she skipped the last one and this time, oh, this time he really kissed her. One hand around her waist and one on her hair, Max complaining with a huff when Frank pulled on his leash to raise his hand to the waistline of her skirt, inside her coat, hooking fingers there as if he wanted to remove it while Karen ran her own on his face, his hair his neck, down his back, reaching as far as she could and then coming back up and around, pulling on the collar of his shirt while he kissed her hard enough to make her shiver, that hand going lower and lower, pressing on her butt and then coming up and shit, she was seeing spots.

This time, she was the one to let go, because if she didn't do it now, she would only be able to do it hours later, and it was best not to get ahead of themselves.

"See you later, Frank," she breathed against his mouth.

"You take care, ma'am", he squeezed her butt again and she breathed out, and in, calm down.

"Bye, Max."

Running a hand on the dog's head, she raised her head again and he was eating her up with his eyes.

"Fuck, just get in."

Oh, that voice promised so much. And she wanted to collect.

Letting him see her smile, she turned around and forced herself to keep walking, not look back, close the door behind her and climb the stairs towards home, even though sleep was no longer a possibility.

She was wrong. Karen slept like a baby.


	5. Formation

**_Formation_**

 **Pairing: Kastledevil**

 **Summary: Karen from Vermont and a love sculpture**

 **Rated: K+**

* * *

Karen had never slept on silk sheets before. It's funny how you get used to nice things fast.

Opening her eyes, she thanked Matt's catholic God for the Saturday mornings, even if it was so early. It was good to just be quiet, sometimes. Her life moved in such a fast pace, to be still for a few moments can be a blessing.

She was lying on her side, wearing an old Columbia University shirt, hand and head on top of a broad chest full of scars, leg twisted around his. The light from the window hurt her eyes and she sighed, turning away from it and on her stomach, trying to hold on to the last traces of sleep. Her movement made Frank stir and throw a heavy arm towards her, hand landing on her butt.

"He in yet?" he asked, hand gripping, voice rough as sandpaper.

Opening her eyes, Karen saw the familiar shadow moving around the kitchen through the frosted door.

"Yeah."

Sighing, she turned around, kissed his face and sat up. Frank wrapped his hand around her wrist for a second and then let go, asleep again.

Getting up, she started towards the bathroom to quickly rinse her mouth before walking to the living room, spotting Matt (not in his suit), biting in one of the "protein bars" (covered in chocolate) she liked to keep around his cabinets.

"Hey", she greeted, walking towards him, who raised his hand and stretched out his arm to her. When she was close enough, he pulled her by her waist, accepting the kiss she offered and tucking his face on the crook of her neck, pulling he in and her arms raised to wrap around his shoulders. "You ok?"

"Yeah. It was quiet."

"That's good. Are you just in?"

"For a couple of minutes."

He had taken his shower already, she could feel his skin was still a bit cold.

"No fresh bruises today?"

Matt lifted his head and smiled.

"Not today. It was just a couple of muggings."

Smiling, Karen took a bite of the protein bar and started towards the bedroom again, pulling him by the hand.

"Great. Come to bed, then. Even you need to sleep."

When she lied back down, her spot was still warm and Frank was still asleep, now on his stomach.

Settling in the center of the mattress, she felt Matt lying behind her and sighing. Karen smiled.

There she was. Karen from Vermont, whose feelings had been such a mess a few weeks ago, not knowing what she wanted, who she wanted, if she wanted, why she wanted.

Funny how the way to this arrangement of theirs was such a natural thing. While everything spun and exploded and happened in a million different directions so fast, Matt, Frank and herself learned how to move steadily. Learned not to fight. Learned to just… Go.

And oh, she loved it. She would keep going for as long as she could.

Sleep was creeping up again, Matt's solid presence behind her, the way his chest pressed against her back with every breath, lulling her back in, even if Frank sat up and reached behind her, to run his thumb over one of Matt's closed eyes, like he does, with his palm flat against his cheek and fingers grazing his ear.

But then that hand was running up her legs and up her shirt and she was not going to fall back asleep now.

.:.

An hour later, maybe a bit more, Matt was lying on his back and she was tucked against him, head on his shoulder, back on his side, his arm under and around her neck, fingers linked with hers, resting over the shirt she had put back on, while Frank improvised a curtain with a sheet over the window.

When he got back, he rested his head on her stomach, almost at the curve of her hip, curling an arm around her leg, her thigh - and her hand, the one that wasn't locked with Matt's - over his chest, and Matt turned on his side so he could reach Frank's head and run his free hand over his short hair.

Karen from Vermont. Twisted and arranged in a complicated love sculpture. Who knew.

"You know", Matt said. "Since this has been working so well, I've been thinking."

"A dangerous past time," Frank said, caressing the back of her thigh.

"What do you think about inviting that talk show host we met the other day to this? Trish? I think it was it-"

"Over my fucking dead body", Karen said without even opening her eyes, making Frank laugh that throaty laugh of his and Matt lean in to kiss her face and bite her earlobe, chuckling.

"Greedy."

"You better believe it."

She sighed and moved to best settle against them.

"You rest easy there, ma'am" Frank said.

"It's all for you", Matt completed.

Sighing, she smiled, so comfortable with all that silk and all that skin around her.

Funny how you get used to nice things fast.


	6. Wanna do things that I shouldn't

_**Wanna do things that I shouldn't**_

 **Pairing: Kastledevil**

 **Summary:** **Matt can't see Karen. Frank works on a description**

 **Rated T. Maybe M**

* * *

He was shaving in the bathroom. Frank was lying on the couch, reading the paper, when the front door opened and Karen's heels clicked down the hall, a tired sigh, that smell of hers buried under the imprint of her day.

"Hey", Frank greeted, voice rough, putting the paper down, looking at her. "We were waiting for you to have dinner."

"Oh, that's sweet", she said, hand on her hair, shoulders sagging. Matt ran the electric shaver to the other side of his face, hurrying up.

Frank, meanwhile, got up from the couch, no doubt seeing what Matt sensed. She had a long day.

"You ok?" he asked, stepping to her and taking his hands to her face, pushing her hair back and Karen angled her face up, fingers on the waist of his pants.

"Yeah, just tired. I just got back from the doctor." Frank grunted his question."I'm fine, but I waited forever for her to see me."

"Hmm", he kissed her, just a small, slow touch of lips, but she ran her hands up his back and Matt turned his shaver off, turning the water on to wash his face.

"She does want me to see a dermatologist, though. Says I might need to remove these."

Karen raised her hand to her face and touched the birthmark over her lip and then one of the two on her neck.

"How come?"

"Hmm. It might be nothing, but it might be an issue one day. It's just a precaution."

Frank ran his thumb over her lip, touching that spot on her face.

"You hearing this, Red?" he asked without raising his voice and Matt could hear her teeth pressing on the flesh of her lower lip, muscles working to turn the corners of her mouth up into a smile. "That's some bullshit."

"You like my marks?" she asked, eyebrows raised, smile sweet and open.

"Yeah…"

The aftershave tingling on his skin, Matt walked out into the living room, passing by them with a hand on Karen's back and a kiss to her cheek as a greeting and stepping around the kitchen counter to reheat the dinner take out.

"It's actually very common. The high concentration of pigment and tissue in one place can-"

"Yeah, yeah, Ivy League, I know." Frank interrupted, hands still on her face, her arms around his waist. "You're just saying it 'cause you can't see 'em."

Turning his face up towards them, Matt smiled, removing the lids from the food containers.

"Tell me, then."

Karen turned her face to him and he could hear the hairs on her arms standing up slightly.

Making a contemplative sound on the back of his throat, like he was assessing a situation, Frank angled her face back towards his.

"There's this one on the corner of her mouth, a little up", his thumb touched it. "It's small, almost transparent. Not enough _pigmentation_ to make it a thing. It just makes you want to kiss it."

Which he did. Pressing his lips on top of it, he kissed it once, twice, and then down to her mouth, which opened.

Setting his jaw, Matt placed two containers full of rice in the microwave, hitting the right button to turn it on.

"You know how it is" Frank said, voice low and Matt turned his head a little, the noise from the microwave suddenly too loud and unwelcome. "To feel that mark with your mouth."

Karen's breath came out a little harder, though her nose, head tumbling back, eyes closing.

Matt hummed his acknowledgment. "But I think I prefer the one directly under it, on her neck", he said.

"Hmm, yeah…" Thumb under her chin, he slid it down her neck. "That's another thing. I wish you could see this neck of hers, Red. All long, even whiter than that milky skin of yours."

Very aware of his own breathing, he stepped from behind the counter, towards them. Frank had his mouth attached to her jaw when he reached them. Raising his hand, Matt found the ends of her hair, cascading towards the floor, and when he touched her back, his fingers touched Frank's, who gripped them and used the other one to turn Karen around and away from him, touching his chest to her back and bringing Matt's hand to her neck, to touch the mark he had been describing.

"This one is darker."

Matt felt it under his forefinger. Under it, the air was coming in and out of Karen's trachea in long, excited breaths.

"It's small. The only danger it poses is making me lose my focus."

Matt smiled again, other hand reaching and looking for hers while Frank's fingers guided his to the other birthmark.

"This one's bigger. It's always the first thing I notice when she wears her hair up."

Matt was close enough to feel her breath on his face, now. Frank's hand let go of his fingers to move her hair around.

His lips touched Karen's for a second, pecking just once, and then Matt lowered his face towards the base of her neck.

"I like this part right here", he said while she rested her head on Frank's shoulder, giving him access and breathing harder. "I can mark her pulse with my tongue."

"Gonna have to try that someday."

His rough hands descended from her head, sneaked around her waist, rose to her chest and started undoing her buttons, under Matt's chin, the precision of a man used to putting together, dismantling and cleaning every type of gun out there, aware of the delicacy each act required.

Karen lost a few inches and Matt realized she had kicked her heels off. When her skin lowered, his head stayed and he lifted his face, seeking her mouth again while Frank opened her blouse and pulled it from inside her skirt.

While he tasted her tongue, Castle went on. "I was kinda disappointed when I couldn't find more, hidden there under all these good girl clothes." Karen whimpered in Matt's mouth, hand raising from wherever it had been, attaching itself to the collar of his T-shirt, pulling on it. "There's just this one, right here". Once again, Frank fished one of Matt's hand and guided it to a spot under her left breast. "This one is just a patch of darker color."

His fingers guided Matt's over the small area. He couldn't feel anything different.

"I didn't know there was one there", he whispered, opening his mouth for another kiss.

"And this", he moved their hands under the other breast. There, Matt could feel a patch of rougher, angrier skin. It lifted slightly. "Is the twin. I put it there the other day."

"You know what's funny?" Matt asked, touching it while Karen breathed hard and bit her lower lip, pulling on his shirt slightly. "I don't know if I can do that. It's not like I can check."

"Let's see."

Frank raised his hand and guided her to expose the right side of her neck to Matt, who dropped his face and attached his mouth, sucking on skin, hand gripping on waist.

"No, Matt!" Karen startled, breathing hard, skin hot, alive with sensation. "Not- not there, people will see-"

Matt lifted his face just enough so Frank could turn her around, fast, as if they had agreed, gathering hair in his hand. Dropping his face again, the lawyer scraped his teeth on the back of her neck, a little to the left, before reattaching himself to her skin, sucking, licking, tasting.

"You'll just have to wear your hair down for a while, there, ma'am."

She moaned when he released her skin and caught her earlobe on his mouth, after sucking enough to, hopefully, leave a mark of his own.

"You've known her for a while, now, I'm sure you noticed these skirts".

Their hands met on her waist, fingers running over each other and skin, measuring the hem of the black pencil skirt. Frank was looking for the zipper, Matt was purposely raising shivers, feeling the hum of Karen's excitement under his hands.

"She can drive a man crazy when she wears these."

"She has", Matt said and Karen reached up and behind her, bringing him closer to her, pressing her back to his chest, hand on his face, head on his shoulder, pulling Frank along. "Difficult thing, to concentrate on work when she's walking around the office and you can hear her skin sliding against tight fabric."

Frank's hands found the zipper and lowered it, slowly. When the skirt loosened a little, Matt pressed his fingers under her ribs, digging on skin and lowering, disappearing inside her skirt and Karen moaned, bucking her hips back towards him, and _shit._

Sniper hands let the zipper halfway closed, so the skirt still held on to her when he also put his hands inside, and Matt could feel his knuckles under his belly button. While he teased Karen by reaching for her thighs, pressing on her skin, Frank got himself two handfuls of her ass. Squeezing for a moment, he let go and reached lower, towards the back of her thighs, blunt nails scratching.

"How's she doing, there?" Frank asked, one of Karen's hands on his chest, palm open, the other keeping Matt's face close to hers. He chuckled, listening to her heartbeat (steady, strong, intense), the breaths that were coming out of her in long draws, the buzz of her excited, alert skin, making every touch of their hands cause a reaction, which, in turn, caused a response on him, on them.

"Dopamine's running", he answered, hands rising from the front of her legs to her hips, teasing the string of her underwear, thumbs hooking, face by hers. "Her skin feels like some kind of velvet. Or maybe a solid cream." His hand rose from inside her skirt to pull the shirt Frank had opened down one arm. "A little more adrenaline and she's about to get high."

"I can see it. She's showing me everything."

He could tell Frank was holding back on his narration. Karen didn't like it when he was _too_ crude.

When she returned her hand to his chest and let go of Matt's face to let the shirt fall to the floor, Frank lowered the zipper of her skirt all the way down, and she shimmied it down her legs. He couldn't see, but he felt it all and he turned her around to him, catching her mouth in a kiss that was not very sweet, with teeth worrying lips and tongue teasing.

This time, he was the one to pick Frank's hand up, placing it over her heart.

"You feel that?"

"Hmm, yeah."

When Frank sucked a earlobe into his mouth, there was a _knock knock knock_ on the door and Karen let out a startled breath while her two companions groaned.

"It's, uh, it's my neighbor from downstairs. Mrs. Pyper."

"She'll go", Frank said, keen on ignoring the intruder.

"No, she won't. She brought dessert."

"Go get rid of her, then."

With a grunt, Matt stepped aside, towards his door. Taking a moment to calm down, he didn't take his attention from the pair standing in his living room.

He opened the door when Karen, with her back to Frank, pulled on his shirt and whispered for him to "take this off".

"Hello darling, it's Mrs. Pyper, from downstairs."

He forced himself to fake a pleasantly surprise expression. "Oh, hi, Mrs. Pyper, how are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

He tried to breathe normally while Frank took his shirt off and lifted Karen's chin, dropping her head on his shoulder, other hand pushing it's way inside her bra, humming his appreciation in her ear.

"I brought you this cake. It's chocolate fudge."

"Oh, you didn't have to."

"Please, it's my pleasure. You work so hard, I barely see you anymore. Here."

He reached his hand out, letting the old lady pick it up and place the plate in it, grateful for something to keep in front of him. Karen suppressed a moan in the living room.

"That's very sweet, thank you very much."

"Don't mention it, don't mention it. Are you well? Do you need anything?"

"I got all I need now, thanks to you." he smiled, even if what he needed had nothing at all to do with her and everything to do with two of his former clients currently standing in his living room.

His neighbor smiled.

"Well, tomorrow I'm running to the market. Do you want me to bring you a few things?"

The retired woman had taken a liking to him, offering to do his groceries and take his suits to and from the dry cleaners sometimes. The couple had never had children and the fact that Matt would always compliment her on her perfume and her cooking whenever they met on the elevator made her sweet on him.

"You did a good job, here, Red", Frank's voice came and Matt knew he was talking about the fresh mark on the back of Karen's neck. He moved and pushed Karen forward, guiding her towards the bedroom.

"Oh, uh, no, I actually just restocked everything this week", he said, to his neighbor, impatient, but watching himself.

Frank unclasped Karen's bra and dropped it by the bedroom's door.

His neighbor smiled.

"Oh. Does that nice lady have anything to do with it? Uh, Karen, right?"

"Fuck, she's beautiful. Come back."

"Yeah, actually."

"She seems nice, sweetheart."

"She is."

Karen was now pressed against the wall, arms around Frank's neck while he kissed her, hands everywhere.

"She's all warm, Red."

"You two getting serious?"

"You like that?" Frank was asking and Karen was trying her best to keep her moaning down.

"Hmm, yeah…"

Matt smiled his best good boy smile, tuning his ears to catch the extent of the damage Karen's nails would cause to the skin of Frank's arms.

"I hope so."

"I'm glad. Anyway. Enjoy the cake, darling."

"There's that adrenaline high you were talking about."

"And, if you need anything, you know you can call me, right?"

Karen's skin was alive in chills, even if there was no sign of a draft running in his bedroom. Her voice came out broken to Frank's teasing,

"Goddamit, Red, get back in here."

"I will. Thank you very much, Mrs. Pyper."

"It's my pleasure. Good night, darling."

Closing the door, he dropped the plate with the cake on the sideboard by the door and walked to his bedroom.

When he got there, Frank had transferred her to the bed and was standing in front of it, working on taking his shoes off.

Matt bent his knee and crawled on top of her. She greeted him with arms and legs around him and he dropped his mouth on hers. Karen moaned and kissed him back, running her hands on his face and then lower, to catch his t shirt on her hands and lift it until he raised his arms to take it off. Catching her wrists and placing them above her head, he ran his lips over her face, on her jaw, then on her neck, lower, between her breasts, where his tongue tasted the bumpy hickey under the right one.

"Frank, tell me", he asked, releasing her wrists from his grip and running his fingers down her arms as his mouth explored her abdomen, thoroughly enjoying her reactions.

"She has this look on her face, now."

"What look?"

"Like she knows", Frank touched her face, pulling her lower lip down with his thumb. "That you and me, we'd die for her."

As he made his way down, Frank kneeled on the mattress and closed his hand around her neck.

"The way she looks at me, Red, I swear I feel like the biggest man on Earth."

When Matt reached his destination, Karen let out a surprised cry, rolling her hips and touching a foot on his back, leg over his shoulder and suddenly she was everywhere. Her voice on his ears, her skin under his hands, her taste on his tongue and every chemical on his nose, from the release of dopamine to the slippery sweat.

"Tell him", Frank said on her ear, enjoying the sound of her voice as much as he was. Matt worked his mouth a little harder and she cried out again.

"Oh, God, Matt…"

She ran that foot on his back and Matt closed a hand around her thigh, bracing against it.

"I'll tell you something", Frank said, and he couldn't locate him, exactly. He just knew he was close. "That's the best sensory overload you'll ever get."


	7. You always come back

_**You always come back**_

 **Pairing: Karedevil (if you turn your head to the left, you can see some Kastle)**

 **Summary (Tumblr post): "prompt: karen is kidnapped by a serial rapist/killer she was 'investigating' and frank and matt team up to rescue her - centered on karedevil with a bit of kastle?"**

 **Rated T for some trigger warnings (kidnapping, mentions of rape)**

* * *

Maybe she should take up meditating, or something like that. If she keeps going like this, she's bound to have a mental break down. And a physical one, she thought, rolling her head to try and lose that knot on the back of her neck.

And, maybe, she should start navigating in some lighter waters. All this tragedy, this crime, the ugliness of people's cores can take a toll. Maybe she should finish the story about the crazy maniac that has been kidnapping, raping and killing women - only to leave their bodies exposed for the police, like the sickest, darkest sculptures, with carved skin, painted in blood - and not pick up the next one about mob leaders posing as businessmen passionate about charities, just to make the working people of New York donate their hard earned money - and vote for them, eventually.

She was thinking about Claire, that nurse she met through Foggy. Maybe she could talk to her about something good, for a change. Maybe they could team up and start a nice thing, like a series of the everyday heroes, like the under appreciated, underpaid, overworked nurses of Hell's Kitchen.

Climbing the subway station stairs, she smiled, thinking about the welcome change of pace that would bring. And then she sucked in a startled breath, when there was a hand against her mouth pressing a wet cloth on her nose, and her eyes were watering, her throat was burning, her heart was racing and her body was struggling, but losing strength.

In less than a minute, Karen Page was out, in the arms of a man she never saw.

.:.

Matt has been home from court for a while, now. Forced some food in and sat on his couch, to drink a beer before changing into his other suit.

He missed them everyday. But on the days he had to go to court, to prep cases and build a strategy with another team, not _his_ team, he missed them a thousand times harder.

At the very least, Foggy was speaking to him a little bit, using information from his office to protect him from the mayor's office traps. It was cold, not their usual, comfortable friendship. But it was something.

Karen, though, was radio silence. She said she needed time, and he's giving it to her, of course. But her absence is solid, oppressing. Almost suffocating. He gets a few stolen moments, listening as she walks home from work, the occasional laugh with a co worker, the head first diving into the last places she should be - more than once, Matt stopped someone from harming her, and she just went on going, none the wiser - and, yes, bonding with none other than Frank Castle.

At the very least, he's trying to tell her she should not be doing most of the things she's doing. So that's a plus side. The downside being that he is prone to shooting people. Even though Matt knows Karen is in no danger when she's with him, he itches. Doesn't like it. Matt tells himself it's because he's unstable, dangerous, and he is just fearing for her safety. He knows it's bullshit. The reasons he wants her away from Frank is because he can hear her heartbeat - both their heartbeats -, listen to the small laughs he pulls out of her sometimes. He can hear how his voice is softer around her.

Tonight, his first stop is the Bulletin's roof. Just so he can hear her voice, or catch a sniff of her shampoo.

He gets none. What he does get is Ellison asking someone named Johnson about her. Something about her not showing up for work and not picking up her phone.

In the next three minutes, Matt climbed the editor's window. Ellison was only mildly surprised when he found him in his office, though.

"God. If you're here, it's not good."

"What do you know?", Matt asked, his own heart racing.

"She's been digging into the Carver."

 _Godammit, Karen._

"When was the last time you spoke to her?"

"Last night. She texted me this morning, before getting in the subway."

The man raised his hand to his face, frustrated, worried. Matt took a minute to think.

"She visited his first victim's sister last week. Yesterday she spoke to one of the cops who found the last girl."

Yesterday she had also spoken with Frank.

Matt started towards the window again.

"I'll be back."

"Wait, wait! What if I find something, how do I get a hold of you?"

"You don't. But you're a resourceful man, Mr. Ellison. You'll find a way to catch my attention."

And then he was gone, to find Frank.

.:.

The sun was setting for the second time, and Karen was starting to lose hope. With all the drugs he has been injecting her with, she was having trouble separating hallucination from the truth. So far, she has seen her brother, her parents, the other six dead girls ("you will be my seventh", he had told her, while strapping her ankles and wrists to a bed. "I was considering this other girl. Beautiful. Tall, black. A ballerina. But you walked my way, so angelic, looking for me, tracing me. I heard you, angel. I'm here").

She sees Matt a lot. Hears his voice, but it's distant. She wants to call for him, knows he can hear her, if she tries hard enough, but her voice is always gone, now. Karen thinks about him right before she passes out. When she wakes, it's Frank she sees. His bruised face and that mean frown, that's scares the world but makes her feel safe.

She wonders what he, the Sculptor, has done to her, beside filling her with drugs. From the previous cases, it's three days before he… Touches them. From what Brett told her, he waits until they're completely helpless, systems full with tranquilizers. He sits, draws them in a few different poses, rapes and kills them, only to finish by carving up whatever sick image has formed in his head.

Karen felt a hand on her face, fingers running from her temple to her chin, delicately, arranging her hair. Looking up, the smile that opened to her was Matt's, and she wanted to reach out and touch him, tell him she misses him, that she misses him so much. But then the smile is yellow, twisted, crazed and delirious. He smells of paint thinner and Matt is gone, the monster in human form is back and she is hyperventilating, she wants to scream, but there's a needle in her belly, pinching, spreading the drug that silenced and dazed her.

"I know, angel, I know, it's ok, don't worry…"

There were tears in her eyes and she saw him taking a step back to look at her. The clothes she was wearing were not hers. Some rags that used to be white, ripped and arranged around her.

"You are beautiful, angel. Thank you for coming to me."

She felt the tears rolling down her face, because he had a notebook and a pencil in his hands.

"I might even delay my date with the ballerina, just for you. I think you are the most special, angel. You and I can be together for a long time, I think."

He almost sounded sweet, if the crazy didn't drip from every word he said.

"I know that you don't, right now. But, if you try, you can love me, and we can be together. You can-"

There was, with a swishing sound, a blade coming through his right shoulder, a red stain growing around it, his eyes big on her, surprised, and Karen wondered if she was imagining Frank's face over his shoulder.

"I don't think so, asshole", said his deep, low, dangerous voice and Karen cried harder, because, all this time, it had never been this clear. He was really there.

He looked at her for a moment, angry, mad, Punisher, and then he pulled his knife, the man screamed, tried to lift his arm and swing it at Frank, and then Karen saw red, felt rough material on her face, that face she missed, the one she trusted, covered by a red mask, close, real, here.

"Matt…"

"I'm here, my love, I got you now, I got you", he said, and he was nervous, too, she could hear it.

Matt - Daredevil - went to her feet and undid the knots that kept her still. When she could move them again, he moved to her hands. When she raised one, heavy with drugs, to his face, he took it in both his hands, pressed it and kissed it, taking it to his heart and coming to kiss her lips.

"Anything you wanna say, Red?" Frank asked, the sound of his fist repeatedly connecting with her captor's face stopping for a moment.

Matt stopped a few inches from her face and, even with the mask, she recognized his thinking expression. Karen almost smiled.

"You speak for me, today."

"Then go."

He moved again, gently, but fast, picking her up from the table, bed, whatever surface it was she had been lying on.

"Come on, sweetheart, let's go. I'll take you home, now."

Her arms were heavier than ever before, but she raised them to hold him by his neck, resting his head on his shoulder, shaking with effort, relief, tears, nausea, fear.

When he started to walk, she looked at Frank, who has his foot on that monster's head, pinning him to the floor by his face, knife on his hand. He found her eyes and she saw that fierce penetrating look, like he was reading her mind.

"Wait... "she said to Matt.

"You go", Frank said, firm, at the same time Matt said "We have to go. I'll kill him if we stay."

He walked out the door, carrying her in his arms, and she hid her face on the crook of his neck again, feeling her lips touch the material of his red suit.

"You found Frank", she said.

"To find you."

She fell asleep, or passed out, before they reached the door to take them outside.

.:.

When Murdock opened the door for him, he expected the question. It didn't come in words. But Frank looked at eyes that couldn't see and he knew he was asking.

"Not yet. But he's not going anywhere."

His jaw set, he took a breath and nodded, stepping aside to let him in.

"She's still asleep. He'd been injecting her with a tranquilizer, to keep her from fighting. The doctor set an IV to flush it out."

He walked to the door he assumed was the bedroom, opened it and saw her, lying, asleep, but serene.

"He made a cut on her hip. An 'X'."

X marks the spot.

Grunting the flush of anger that raised inside him, he walked to her side and sat on the edge, taking his hand to her face.

"I made a few cuts of my own."

For once, Red said nothing.

Slowly, Karen opened her eyes and he regretted sitting so close. Maybe she needed space, maybe him being so close would trigger-

"Frank?"

"I'm here, ma'am."

Blue eyes focused on his face and she raised her hand to the one he still had on hers.

"I almost thought you wouldn't come", she said, smallest voice he ever heard her use.

"You take that idea out of your mind," he found himself saying. "I'll always come for you."

She smiled, closed her eyes and slept again.

He turned his head to Murdock.

"I asked that piece of shit a thousand times. He says he didn't touch her."

It was a question, begging for confirmation.

"The doctor said he didn't". He moved his head, and Frank understood. "I can tell. He didn't."

He trusted that assessment more than the medical one.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he moved his thumb on her cheek one more time, got up and walked to the door.

"I'll be back."

.:.

When Karen opened her eyes again, her fingers reached and he was taking her hand before she finished calling for him.

"I'm here."

Karen cried on his shoulder and he held her the entire time.

"I got you. I got you, you're safe."

Holding as tight as she could, she raised her face and he met her, kissing her forehead, and she breathed him in, taking immeasurable comfort in the familiar scent of him.

"Thank you for finding me", she said, when he touched her forehead to hers, bumping her nose with his. "I think I've had enough time."

Matt smiled, the thousandth flood of relief running through him, to have her here, close to him, safe, solid, alive. His.

"You are everything", he said, lips brushing hers. "And I will never lose you again."


	8. This sin was mine alone

**_This sin was mine alone_**

 **Pairing: Karedevil (angsty af, though. So maybe it's a bit Kastle)**

 **Summary (Tumblr prompt): "angsty argument between matt and karen a while after he tells her he's daredevil because he finds out she's been kinda letting frank crash in her couch and going out for coffee with him and he's worried about her but actually he's just jealous cause he knows she kinda feels something for him and karen throws in his face that frank was the one there for her when matt was running around with elektra and he has no RIGHT"**

 **Rated K+ (for one bad word)**

* * *

Maybe the devil did possess him. Maybe that red suit, with it's horns, called for something, worked like an invitation.

Matt knew he shouldn't be saying what he was saying. He knew he had no right.

And yet, he kept talking.

"Is this what you've been doing?" he asked, pointing in the general direction of the couch while Karen stood a few feet away from him, waves of frustration coming out of her. "Letting a convicted murderer sleep on your couch?"

He couldn't see the look she was giving him, but he felt it. It was one he never wanted to receive.

"What do _you_ care?"

"Are you honestly asking that? What do I care?"

"Yes, I am!"

"He's not a stranded puppy you bring home, Karen!"

"Listen! I'm not a child. I'm not your responsibility."

This was meant to be something good. Two days ago, they "ran into" each other (in reality, he calculated the time she left work and waited until then to go out for food). She saw him from across the street while they waited for the right light. There was no use pretending he was just a blind man who did not know she was there. So, when she tried a smile, he tried one, too. The light changed, people around him started to walk, she walked towards him. When a man moved to offer him help to cross, she got to him, took his hand and spoke. "I got him, thanks".

Her voice had raised shivers on him. They walked together and talked, first about nothing. Awkward, strange. Then, with familiarity. He made her blush and she made him yearn and they made each other laugh. They walked for hours. Holding hands, stopping for food.

Today was supposed to be better. They were going for dinner. She just had to stop by her place to leave some files, and he came up, just for a second. And then he smelled gun powder. Traces of blood and rubbing alcohol, rubber boots and coffee. Frank.

Now, they were standing there, arguing about how reckless it was, to meet with him. Bond with him. Patch him up and let him spend the night.

"Do you know how many dangerous people are after him? Do you realize the kind of people Frank Castle pisses off everyday?"

"Well, you do the same thing, don't you?"

She was so angry her hands were shaking.

" _But nobody knows who I am, Karen!_ " he hissed, lowering his voice. "They do not have a target on my face, or the faces of the people in my life!"

"Tell that to the ninjas, they got me to bait you!"

He opened his mouth, not even knowing what he was going to say, but she went on.

"And the _only_ reason they got me is because you weren't there."

"I was trying to-"

"No, what you were doing was poking a hornet's nest with your ex-girlfriend. And I know! I know she died, and I'm sorry, Matt, I am, but that doesn't change the fact that you weren't there."

"You wanted me to just walk away from that? From people taking children from their homes to do God knows what with them, take their blood for some cult-"

"What I wanted you to do is not lie to me!"

"I was trying to protect you! You know that!"

"What I know is that five minutes after she came back, she knew about you. You told her everything."

"You know that she knew already. You know she used it to force my hand into helping her."

She took her hand to her hair and looked away, heart going wild. Her hands were shaking and she was blinking fast.

Matt could smell tears.

"You walked away from us. From me. Again, and again, and again. You lied and you didn't trust me."

"Karen-"

"No. You did. You took me to dinner and you told me that it was perfect and then you walked away to piss off some japanese people with her. You didn't have to. You went because you wanted to. So now you don't get a say in who I let sleep on my couch or not."

"He's dangerous, Karen."

"Not to me."

"Not to y- That's not how this works!"

"You know he's not going to hurt me."

And then, the Devil again.

"So now you're using him to replace me."

She froze, looking at him and he wanted to kick himself.

"What?"

"From the moment he saw you, in that hospital, he clinged to you. No, I'm sorry, first he shot at you, and then he was arrested, we walked in and he will only talk to you."

"Because I helped him remem-"

"Oh, come on. That's not it", says the Devil, that thing inside him that burned, that roared, that could not accept that Karen, his Karen, was spending time and smiling and taking care of Frank Castle. He could not accept that there was someone else at the receiving end of everything she had offered _him_ , not so long ago. "He saw you."

She stood there, looking at him, and he hated how it felt.

"Maybe he did", she said, voice trembling. "And, unlike you, he doesn't walk away. He doesn't lie to me. Unlike you, he's there when I need him."

"When you needhim?" he took a step towards her and she jutted her chin out. "What do you need him for?" his voice was low, now, because that thought hurt him.

Through the stubborn tears, Karen chuckled without humor.

"You know, I'm finding new reasons everyday."

"You don't need him." The devil left. Here stayed only Matt Murdock. A mess, broken, trying desperately to hold on to the one ray of light that could make his cold world of fire feel warmer. Warm blue to cold red, ironically. "He might even need you, but you don't need him."

"Don't you dare say I need you", she said, taking a step back when he walked to her.

"You do", he whispered, closing his hand around her wrist and anchoring the other on her face, wanting to scream when she flinched. "And I need you. For a while I thought I didn't. After you said you weren't mine to protect, but guess what? You are."

"I'm not. You made sure of that."

She was crying a little harder, now.

"You are, Karen. I know I fucked up, I know that. And I tried to accept that this was over, I even considered running, going away, but I can't, I could never go, because I need you here", he placed one of her hands over his heart and his forehead on hers, his throat closing. "I needed you since you asked if I remembered how it felt like to see and you've been mine since you walked me home in the rain."

She let out a breath and his hand inched her face closer.

"But have you ever been mine at all?"

The thing inside him - maybe the devil, maybe his conscience - reminded him of how he felt around Elektra. Like she was the only one who knew him, the only one who could see him completely, how he felt like he never needed to act and lie and how he opened every part of his life to her, even when he pretended he didn't.

" _You have been ours, Matty_ ", said Stick's voice inside his head while he remembered the feeling of finding out about the lies she fed him since the day they met.

" _I'm the only one who knows you, Matthew"_ , Elektra purred while Karen took his hand from her face and stepped around him, her phone buzzing in her pocket. " _You were never hers._ "

He had fallen for Karen amidst his lies, exactly like Elektra said she did for him.

Take something pure and taint it with betrayal.

"You should go", Karen said, sniffing her tears away.

Her phone still buzzed in her hand.

"Is that Frank?"

"Yes."

She waited until she was sure he was gone, but he heard, from the sidewalk, as she called him back.

" _On tonight's menu, brazilian brew. Supposed to be the best."_

She chuckled, with humor this time, and Matt wanted to punch something until it broke.

"You buying?" she asked.

" _Don't I always?"_

The devil (from both hells) was particularly ruthless tonight.

* * *

 **I'm serious, with this one. Tell me what you think. I'm not good at angst.**


	9. We escalate

**_We escalate_**

 **Pairing: Kastle**

 **Summary: One elevator. Fifty floors. Karen and Frank.**

 **Rated K+**

* * *

If someone asked her, she would say no. "Of course not". But she was a little bit excited.

Karen had never been part of a secret operation before. She knew Matt had - you don't have a secret identity without pulling stuff like that on the regular -, and Foggy was practically king of classified cases, with his new fancy job and all the important work he was doing.

Karen? Not even once. Everything she did, even if she did find some pretty interesting, important stuff, it was just plain snooping.

This, on the other hand, was serious business. She was about to bust an international prostitution operation, all by herself.

Well, no, not by herself. Frank Castle was going with her.

Plus, there was a hacker making sure there were no closed doors, no security cameras on them and no forbidden floors. Foggy was, of course, manning the whole operation from behind his desk.

She was a bit disappointed there were no coms, like the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents wore.

How long has it been since she last felt like giggling? Probably during Frank's trial, when everything started going to hell.

He wasn't on trial now. He was, however, wearing a suit. Better than the one he wore when he took the stand and blew the whole case. She was wearing a long dress and her hair was all made up. They were waiting for an elevator to take them towards a party for people who liked to purchase young women for ridiculously high figures and take them out of the country.

Karen was going to expose an international prostitution operation. Frank was going to help - she made him promise not to kill anyone. He had grunted his agreement, but said he couldn't promise anything.

Now here they stood. They arrived separately and met in the empty lobby, away from the rich party goers and their expensive everything, going up to find the secret meeting taking place, where millions were being spent on terrified ladies plucked from their families.

It was not a moment for giggling. At all. But she wanted to, anyway, because Frank looked so good. The giggling was not because she was making fun of him. It was because he had looked her up and down when they met, assessed her dress, flashed that side smile of his at her, uttered an amused "Wow…" and moved towards where they needed to be.

She had wanted to ask "what?", to make him elaborate that smirk, to milk a compliment from him. She let it go, instead. Just curved her lips up a bit and looked at the elevator display.

When it arrived, they stepped in and turned around to face the door during the climb to the very top of the 50 stories tower.

She should be nervous about finding armed security. Or anything that could ruin her "operation", or put them in danger. But no. Karen was nervous about the man standing beside her.

"You remember what I told you?" he asked when the elevator lifted from the ground level.

"About what?"

"We run into trouble…"

"I run."

"And if you can't run?"

"I shoot. I know. But I won't have to."

"You wait for me to go back down, ok?" he looked at her, hands at his sides, clenching and releasing, and it was because he was getting ready for a fight, but she imagined it was for other reasons. Less violent ones, involving her.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to control herself. Bit on her lip to try and push that silly giggling impulse away.

"You nervous?"

Looking at him, she saw him staring at her. His face was not covered in bruises as it usually was. He was wearing a tie this time and _damn. Damn_ , he looked incredible.

"A little bit."

Karen felt a shiver run down her spine when he ran his eyes from hers, down her face and the length of her body, coming back and turn his face forward again, setting his jaw and taking a deep breath, wearing that smirking he sometimes flashed her way.

"Ok, what is it?"she asked, needing something from him.

"Nothing."

"Frank."

He looked at her again, this time allowing himself a smile and a half shrug, licking his lower lip and biting on it after.

"I was getting used to the skirts. And then you show up wearing that."

He pointed at her dress, somewhat awkwardly.

She couldn't keep the smile in, so she raised her brows, to at least try and make it look like she wasn't affected by that.

"You wanted me to show up at a gala in a pencil skirt?"

"Not at all."

This is just so inappropriate. Why was he flirting with her in the elevator taking them towards international women smugglers? Why was she flirting back?

"You don't look so bad yourself" she said, resisting the urge to lift her hand to her hair, or look at her shoes.

"Thank you, ma'am."

Raising her eyes, Karen found him staring. Really staring. No space for doubting was he meant, what he wanted.

The elevator dinged and slowed down. Taking a breath to concentrate on what she had to do, take her mind from Frank and his eyes and his suit, Karen prepared herself.

"You ready?" he asked, and she nodded.

The doors opened and they looked at the empty hall in front of them. Karen knew she had to go right, towards the surveillance room dedicated to monitor the women and the room where they would be displayed, looked at and bought. Hopefully, the tapes would provide them with enough proof for the authorities to make their arrests and Karen to write that story that would, most definitely, end up in a raise.

It was all very quick. When she opened the right door, Frank walked in first and proceeded to knock the three men out. In less than a minute, he was calling her in and she was walking to the computers, looking for recordings.

She breathed a little harder when she found a file, organized, with names and dates. Opening one up, she watched a few seconds of a woman standing in bikini and high heels, turning around so a foreign looking man could inspect her.

"This is it. I got it."

"Great. Hurry up", Frank said, from the door.

It took a minute or two for the files - three months worth of them - to transfer to her flashdrive. While the percentage of the bar raised in a steady pace, Frank came to stand beside her and look at the screen that showed the live feed of the display.

There they were. Men talking, drinking laughing of their own jokes, sitting on plush chairs and couches, inspecting as women - young, scared - walked and turned and paraded themselves. One of them nodded to a woman holding an iPad, and she made a note. The girl he had just bought was escorted away and back, towards a room outside the range of the cameras.

Karen was disgusted, horrified. But at least she was doing something to put an end to this. By her side, Frank standing very still, and she knew what he was thinking.

It wasn't what they had agreed, but she couldn't ask him to walk away. She could be one of those women.

When he looked at her, she took a deep breath, and he set her jaw, telling her without words.

"Just- Don't take too long. And!" she added, in a whisper, when he walked away. "Try not to kill anyone. Please."

He sustained her look for a second and then looked outside.

"You stay here."

He closed the door after him and she watched, through the monitors, while he made his way down the hall.

She had no sound, but she saw as he walked in, quietly. At first, the "gentlemen" payed him no attention, thinking he was just another rich buyer (he did look like it. All mean and buff and dangerous in that suit that was just perfect). First, he took down the few security guards, the ones more likely to be packing. And Karen saw, for a terrifying second, as one of them pulled a gun and pointed it at him. Frank, holding the last security guard by his neck, kicked the gun away. After the guards were down, he quickly, easily, dealt with the buyers. Then, he took the iPad from the woman presenting the enslaved girls and tied her hands behind her back, with his tie.

With her breath stuck on her throat, hands shaking slightly, she watched as he fished a phone from one of the men and dialed what she assumed was 911. Then, he vanished from frame, coming back with 10, maybe 15 women, dressed in almost nothing. Taking his jacket off, he gave it to one of them, along with instructions, and Karen knew, when he gave the gun that had been aimed at him a few moments ago to one of them, what he said: "If someone that's not a cop walk in, shoot. If one of them wake up, shoot."

And then he was off. She still saw the women picking phones and guns and jackets to cover themselves before Frank opened the door.

"Come on, let's go."

Karen rushed outside, towards the elevator. When that single _ding_ announced it's arrival, Frank pulled her to the left and into a dark corner, where her legs bumped on a fire extinguisher.

The men exiting the elevator would not have seen them, but when Frank went forward and took down one, then two, then three she understood he was thinking about the victims. He was still punching the third man when the fourth and last came up behind him.

Karen picked the fire extinguisher up.

"Hey!"

He was tall, so she couldn't hit him in the face, not at first. So she pushed the butt of the extinguisher on his chest as soon as he turned around, landing it on his nose after he was down, effectively knocking him out, right when Frank landed the last punch on the thug he had been fighting.

"Atta girl", he said to her, breathing hard. "Come on, come on."

She dropped her heavy weapon, and they walked into the elevator and Karen leaned against the wall, panting. Frank pushed the button to close the door repeatedly. There was blood on his hand, from the noses he had broken. Looking at his face, she saw a few drops of red. Thankfully, not his.

Trying to calm her breathing, she raised her hand to wipe it clean.

"You got blood on you."

He turned his face to look at her while she tried to remove the blood from his face. She was comparing the times she had seen bloodied and bruised and the times she had seen him "clean" when he sighed.

"Fuck, you're wearing the shit out of that dress."

Meeting his eyes, Karen saw his face go to that expression that made her nervous. That good kind of nervous, that made the butterflies inside go crazy.

With a few speck of red still across his face and her hand still feeling the weight of that fire extinguisher, Frank took a step forward and grabbed her face with both hands, crashing his mouth on hers, slipping his tongue inside, pressing her against the opposite wall, bending his knees slightly to mold his body to hers and Karen felt everything.

Her hands raised to his chest and she took it all. Took his tongue, demanding and rough, his teeth on her lip, one of his hands on her hip while the other pressed on the wall by her head, sliding and landing on her neck to pull her closer.

When she anchored her hands on his neck, opening her mouth, hungry, so hungry for his kisses, he stepped back, bringing her with him, his back touching the wall now. Frank gave her a chance to breathe in and out when he raised her chin and ran his tongue down her neck, pulling her to him by her hip, thrusting his forward, making her see stars, his body awakening hers.

She stole a glance to the display, reading "17" in red numbers, going back to his mouth when he requested it, raising his face and angling her head to his.

Her head spinning, she arched her back towards him a bit, running hands down his neck, to the open collar of his shirt, pulling him to her and he got up and towered over her again, oh so dominant Frank Castle.

Karen looked over to the display again. "6".

"Ok, ok, listen", she said, between lips and hands and tongues.

"No, you listen", he said, swallowing her whimpers, hands on her neck and back, pulling her so close, and she caved, just for a moment, she caved because he was making her feel so good, so good, so good.

The elevator slowed down and she pushed him away by his chest, taking a deep breath and a hand to her lips, glad she had not chosen a bright lipstick for the evening.

Frank kept his eyes on her, adjusting his shirt and running a hand on his mouth and, to her, he never looked so dangerous. The doors slid open and he offered his arm. Karen placed her hand on the crook of his elbow and they walked out, ready to blend in until they reached the exit, intent on not attracting any looks to them.

They needn't worry: all the guests were looking at the team of police officers making their way through the tables. Frank's call, reporting fifteen hostages about to be sold into international sex trade, along with the address, had been effective.

He was the Punisher though. Still wanted by the authorities, so he kept his head down and always walked behind people, pulling Karen along with him.

When the kitchen door opened, three staff members coming out to see what was going on, he pulled her to the kitchen, through stainless steel counters and out the back door.

She thought he was going to push her against a brick wall and resume their exploration of each other. There would certainly not be complaints from her. But he crossed the street, pulled her through another, and another, until he reached the next block. Raising his hand, he hailed a cab.

When it stopped, Frank opened the door for her, gently guiding her towards the car.

"You go do what you have to do with those files."

They looked at each other, the cab door between them.

He set his jaw in that way she liked, reading her expression.

"I'll be right there", he promised, his voice low and she bit her bottom lip to keep from smiling. "Go."

Karen got in, he closed the door, and off she went.

.:.

When she heard the knock on her door, the videos were uploaded to her computer, to the Bulletin's database and to an email to Detective Brett, which she was finishing writing.

Frank gave her three seconds after she opened the door. She looked at him, he looked back. Karen smiled, opening her mouth to speak, but giving up.

The door closed behind him when he pushed it, after stepping in and walking into her raised arms.

* * *

 **Just a reminder that reviews are fuel.**


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